


not a simple sponge

by nerdytardis



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Domestic Bliss, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Post-IT Chapter Two (2019), Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:06:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25681756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdytardis/pseuds/nerdytardis
Summary: “Richie.”There was a vague sound from the couch.“Richie I told you a million times—”“That you love me?  Ah, thanks Eds.  Love you too.”Eddie came around to the front of the couch so he could scowl at Richie properly.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 2
Kudos: 105





	not a simple sponge

**Author's Note:**

> okay, so here's the deal  
> this was the first fic i wrote after watching the 2017/2019 movies for the first time. looking back at it now, i don't like the characterization in this anymore. BUT, the story is still super cute, so i'm posting it anyway
> 
> and, yes, the title is from the spongebob musical. i couldn't think of anything else and it made me laugh so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> sorry for any typos and thanks for reading!

“ _Richie_.”

There was a vague sound from the couch. 

“Richie I told you a million times—”

“That you love me? Ah, thanks Eds. Love you too.”

Eddie came around to the front of the couch so he could scowl at Richie properly. 

“When you’re done with the dishes,” Eddie sharply punctuated each word, “you need to squeeze the water out of the fucking sponge.” He brandished the offending object. 

Richie stared at it, and then at Eddie. “But, Eds dear, you’re my main squeeze—”

“Do you have any idea how much bacteria—all the types of mold—” He was shaking the sponge at Richie’s dopey smile, “The diseases that can grow in one of these when they’re left like that are disgusting, Richie.”

Richie just said “Disgustin’” like the lady in that video, so Eddie threw the sponge at him.

“Hey!” The word came out all jumbled because Richie was still laughing as he fumbled around with the sponge and his phone and the pillows on the couch. Eddie promptly turned on his heel and stalked out, back into the kitchen. 

“Eds! Come on!” Richie’s voice was muffled a little by the wall, but Eddie knew he was going to follow him so he just went back to scrubbing the countertop and glowering. He’d told Richie _a million times_ and he still didn’t do what Eddie asked and had the gall to laugh at him like he was—

“Eds.” Richie’s voice was right behind him, soft enough not to startle him. There was a slightly wet sound to his left, as the sponge got tossed back into the sink. “I’m sorry I forgot about the sponge again.”

Eddie crossed his arms and turned around, a scowl still firmly on his face.

Richie slouched down a little more, “We both knew this was going to happen.”

At that, Eddie looked away, his pout feeling pettier by the second. 

Of course they both knew that moving in together would be an adjustment, especially this fast. But between Richie having a big apartment and—well—both of them figuring a bunch of stuff out, it just made sense.

“I’m trying my best here bud, but this old dog can only learn so many new tricks at a time.” Richie sighed, “Eddie look at me please, I don’t want to fight with you about a goddamn _sponge_. We’re not there yet.”

Eddie’s glare flashed back over to Richie, “Where?”

“What?”

“You said we’re not—” Eddie shook his head, trying to put the dumb question from their dumb argument into a vaguely coherent sentence, “Where, exactly, are we not yet?”

“We’re not an old married couple.”

Eddie blinked at him.

“Like I guess we’re kinda old and we’ve known each other for ages,” Richie rambled, “but there’s a big fucking gap in the middle there, and anyway, what I meant was that we’re not one of those couples that’s been married for a million years and argues about all the little domestic shit that only bothers each other,” he finally caught Eddie’s stare and trailed off, “yeah.” He shrugged.

“Yet.”

Now Richie was blinking at him.

“You said _yet_.” Eddie cocked his head at Richie, “You think we’re going to be married for a million years?”

“Now, listen, let’s remember that you were just mad at me—”

“I’m definitely still mad at you.” Eddie took a step forward, into Richie’s space, “But I’m also very interested in this claim that you’ve made.”

They still weren’t touching, but they were so close that Richie’s breath was warm on Eddie’s face. “Eds—I’ve been in love with you since I was twelve. Yeah, I’m kinda interested in keeping you around.”

Warmth pooled in Eddie’s chest while a buzzy feeling started to spread across his arms and the back of his neck. He still wasn’t used to Richie talking to him, about them, like this. He hoped he never got used to it. 

Eddie pushed up onto his toes and kissed the corner of Richie’s mouth, his arms coming up around the taller man’s shoulders. Richie hummed warmly and kissed back, his own hands moving to rest on Eddie’s hips. 

When they parted, Richie wrinkled his nose a little, “You smell like bleach.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shut up his forehead. 

“I’m not complaining, I’m just saying. Making an observation.”

“No you’re complaining, even though I’m the only one keeping this apartment from becoming a literal biohazard.”

Richie opened his mouth like he was going to say something else, shoot back at Eddie like he always did, but instead his eyes softened and his mouth closed into a small smile. 

“What?” Eddie didn’t trust the quiet, even if that look made the warm feeling in his chest turn all gooey. 

“I’m just—I’m happy you’re here.”

The warmth was blooming up his neck to heat his face now, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Richie leaned down, resting his head against Eddie’s and taking in a deep breath. “And I think I could get high on these cleaner fumes.”

Eddie smacked him on the shoulder, making Richie squawk, but neither of them let go of each other. If anything they fell deeper into each other’s space, arms circling around to pull them flush. 

“I’ll squeeze out the sponge next time.” Richie said into Eddie’s shoulder.

Eddie snorted, pressing his face in Richie’s sweatshirt. It sounded so silly when it was said like that, after everything else. But it also meant that Richie was listening and trying and Eddie was grateful for that. 

Mostly he was just glad that Richie was here, holding him almost too tightly. It was impossible to feel breakable when Richie held him like this. 

“Thank you.” Eddie said.

“Any time Eds.” Richie pressed a kiss into his hair, lingering for a moment. 

Eddie’s brow furrowed, “Are you _smelling_ me?”

“I’m telling you these fumes are excellent.” Richie took a big exaggerated sniff. 

Eddie shoved him away. Richie put his hands up in surrender, but he was grinning like a dope. Eddie knew he looked just as love-drunk, but he didn’t care. He’d never gotten to have this before, so he was sure as hell going to enjoy it now.

Dropping his hands, Richie nodded towards the half-cleaned kitchen, “Do you need any help?”

Eddie glanced back at the counter; then looked back to Richie. “I’ll finish it later.”

Richie put his hands on his hips and blew out a low whistle, “My charms are really that irresistible, huh?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Eddie shoved Richie out of the kitchen and back towards the couch, “You’re ego doesn’t need it.”

“Speaking of,” Richie let himself get manhandled back onto the couch, “Did you see I got verified on Instagram?”

“Congrats.” Eddie deadpanned as he crawled his way over Richie. He tucked himself into the space between Richie’s side and the back of the couch. It was tight; his arms were trapped between their bodies and he was mostly laying on top of Richie, but it was the only place in the whole wide world he wanted to be right now.

“See.” Richie pulled up his account to show Eddie, who squinted at it as he got comfy on Richie’s chest. 

“Doesn’t your publicist run that page?”

“Well—”

Eddie snorted, and Richie poked him.

“Buzzkill.”

“Sorry,” Eddie kissed Richie on the chin, “It’s a great honor.”

“Nah, you’re right it doesn’t mean anything.” Richie opened one of his phone games, as Eddie laughed and tried, very unsuccessfully, to kick him. 

Then he looked back to the screen and watched Richie play his game for a while, offering what he thought was very helpful advice. Richie kept pointedly refusing to acknowledge that Eddie might actually be right (and promptly losing the level again). 

Eddie had no idea how long they stayed like that, being lazy and basking in the simple presence of each other, before Richie quietly paused his game. His thumb hovered over the home screen button, but he didn’t say or do anything else.

Eddie shuffled a little so he could look up at Richie. “You good?”

“Do—yeah, I just—yeah.”

Eddie could feel his brow furrowing. He was about to ask for an actual explanation, when Richie leaned down and kissed him on the forehead. “You’re so wrinkly Eddie Spaghetti.”

“Gee. Thanks.”

Richie turned back to the phone and opened Google. He searched for “bad wedding themes” and immediately went to images. 

There were certainly some wild ones. Richie chuckled and pulled up a vampire themed one just so he could zoom in on the groom and his fake blood. Eddie snorted at it, before his brain finally registered what Richie had done. 

“Wait Rich—” Eddie sat up so fast he elbowed Richie right in the gut, making him groan. Eddie probably should have apologized but he was way too focused on figuring out whether this was a bit or not. “Are you—Richie Tozier if you propose to me with a Google image search, I’m going to murder you in your sleep.”

“I’m just—” Richie shrugged a little too violently, “throwing the idea out there.”

“This isn’t the kind of thing you can just ‘throw out there!’” Eddie was being proposed to, this was happening, Jesus Christ, holy shit, “This is a big deal!”

“Trust me, I know!” They were both yelling, “This is something I _never_ thought I was going to do, but then—” Richie gestured vague to Eddie, “This happened.”

It wasn’t necessarily the most flattering thing Eddie had ever heard, but it still made his racing heart beat an extra rhythm or two. “You never even thought about it before now?”

“No!” Richie seemed to realize how worked up he was and let out a breath. “No,” he said again, quieter. “I was repressing a literal metric ton of shit.”

Eddie certainly understood that. “Well, why are you thinking about it now?” 

“This is going to sound stupid, but I made that joke and you got all—into it, and I realized that I was already just assuming that we’d get married someday.”

“Oh.” A smile started to pull at Eddie’s lips.

“So now we’re here and—shit—I don’t know, I’m doing this all wrong. Sorry.”

Eddie waited until Richie was looking at him again before he moved in and pressed a kiss to Richie’s temple. “You’re doing just as well as I should have expected.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Eddie’s lips pulled into a soft smile, “It means that you’re a mess, but you’re my mess, and of course I want to marry you. _But_ —”

The brilliant grin flashing across Richie’s face faltered and Eddie smirked. 

“We’re not engaged yet, because this is _not_ how you ask me to marry you.”

Richie’s eyes got that glint in them. “Are you sure about that?” 

“Don’t. No. Stop.” Richie pulled out his phone again and Eddie tried to wrestle it from him, “I already regret this, you little shit—”

“No you’re the little shit, my sweet spaghetti head.” Richie finally pulled his phone out of Eddie’s grasp, using his stupid long arms to hold it out away from them. 

He managed to open Instagram, then the camera, and get the flash on, all while Eddie was smacking at his arm. 

The photo was terrible. It was blurry and they were both squinting at the flash. Eddie looked like he was in pain while Richie was grinning like crazy. At least a third of the shot was just the pasty underside of Richie’s arm. 

“#engaged.” Richie said. Eddie watched him type the caption out in the big white font and position it on the screen. 

“ _Richie_.” This final plea seemed to cut through, because Richie stopped and looked at him, his grin softening just a little.

“Eds, calm down,” Richie said, “You just wait, I’ll give you the most fucking romantic proposal you’ve ever seen.”

Eddie huffed, but still relaxed against Richie again.

“First, let me finish crafting this masterpiece.” Richie went back to scrolling through filters. 

Snorting, Eddie pressed the side of his face into Eddie’s sweatshirt. Richie wanted to marry him. Eddie grinned in the worn fabric so Richie wouldn’t be able to see it. _Married for a million years,_ that’s what he had said. 

Eddie’s eyes flashed back up to the photo. 

For a moment, he thought about Myra, of all people. When he’d proposed to her, he’d done everything he was supposed to do. Hell, the whole wedding had ended up looking like a stock photo come to life. It was what she wanted, and, at the time, he’d been fine with that. Part of him even thought that doing it by the book would make him more excited about it all—maybe if it looked like a movie, he’d feel like the people in them always seemed to feel. 

Like he was feeling right now. 

Glancing up at one of his oldest friends in the whole wide world, Eddie realized that this giddy buzz running through his veins, the rush of adrenaline leaving his system, the smile he couldn’t seem to hold back—this is what getting engaged was supposed to feel like.

This was it. 

“What would happen if you posted that?”

Richie stopped and looked at him. “It would be hilarious and a ton of people would think we were engaged.”

Eddie met his gaze.

“Wait,” Richie said, “You literally just said that this wasn’t happening right now.”

“And now I’ve thought about it some more.” Eddie shrugged, “We’ve established that I want to marry you and you want to marry me. I’m pretty sure that’s the definition of being engaged.”

Richie was still staring at him, “I’m not used to you being this indecisive.”

That earned him another elbow in the ribs, but he finally started to grin the same way Eddie was. 

“Are you sure? Like sure, sure this time?”

“Yes, you idiot.” Eddie realized he still hadn’t properly kissed his _fiancé_ so he grabbed Richie's face and pulled him close. 

Richie dropped his phone onto the couch and responded in kind, latching onto Eddie’s shirt. It was a bit all over the place, neither of them able to contain their excitement, but it was still so much more than Eddie ever thought he’d have. 

It was probably too soon, they hadn’t even been living together that long, and that really was a terrible photo of them, (and Richie’s publicist was going to be annoyed that he hijacked one of his professional account for a gag _again_ ), but Eddie didn’t care. He’d already wasted so much of his life without this kind of love, and he wasn’t going to squander any more of it now. 

Eddie pressed another kiss to the corner of Richie’s jaw, smiling into his skin as Richie preened. 

“So I take it this means you no longer plan on murdering me in my sleep?” Richie said, “Despite my awkward, unplanned, and altogether sloppy proposal?”

Eddie leaned back so he could see Richie’s reaction when he said, “When you put it like that, it was actually pretty on-brand.”

“Oof.” Richie placed an exaggerated hand on his chest, “I’m hurt.”

“In fact, those are the exact words I would use to describe your last Netflix special.”

Richie’s eyes went bright and wide, “Oh? That’s what you think of my,” he put on a voice, “ _art?_ ”

“Too bad you’re stuck with me now.” Eddie leaned in for another kiss, smiling the whole way.

\- -- - -- -

Eddie woke up the next morning with a whole mess of missed texts, mostly from the other losers. At the top was one from Bev. Under a screenshot of the photo, she just typed: EXCUSE ME ????????

He grinned at it and rolled over to show Richie. 

“The news has broken.” Eddie said. 

Richie yawned and stretched, “Is Ben pissed we beat him to it?”

“Ben is incapable of being pissed about anything.”

“You’ve clearly never insulted Harry Styles in his general area.”

“What the fuck do you have against Harry Styles?”

“Nothing, I just like seeing Ben get all red and frustrated.”

Eddie propped himself up on an elbow, “Oh really now?”

Richie peaked out at him with one eye. “Don’t tell Bev.”

“I’d be more concerned about your _fiancé_ ,” Eddie stretched the word out just to watch Richie fight back a smile at the sound of it.

“I’m not worried about him. He’s pretty chill actually.” Richie said as Eddie moved into his side, “Never stress cleans or yells at me or—”

“Beep, beep.” Eddie said, but it didn’t have any heat behind it. Eddie was truly too happy to care. 

**Author's Note:**

> fun fact: the fight at the beginning in based on a real argument i had with one of my college roommates...there's a reason i project onto movie!eddie so much lmao
> 
> anyway, thanks for reading :)


End file.
